


there's one thing to say so I'll be brave

by uro_boros



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 03:37:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uro_boros/pseuds/uro_boros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boy at the fourth table on the right totally wants your number, Jean Kirstein.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's one thing to say so I'll be brave

Marco wears sweaters with patches on the elbows, ill-fitting trousers, scuffed shoes. He orders a coffee, black, adds two packets of sugar and a little bit of milk, takes a sip while it’s still steaming and winces. He reads Keats with a highlighter and a frown, and Jean is struck by something sort of like lightening and by something that  _isn’t fair._

Eren makes fun of him. Twirls his fingers, leans over to Armin to faux-whisper in his ear about Jean’s  _crush._ It’s not a crush because Jean has a name and a coffee order. Crushes take more. 

(Marco parts his hair down the middle, stupidly, and Jean’s fingers itch with a thing that feels like want—jittery twitches, almost like an addict, and Eren rolls his eyes and snorts, says,  _yeah, right, totally not a crush._ )

There’s a process to these kinds of something. Falling for someone, he means. It’s time and effort, patience and tact—traits Jean has never had nor wanted to have. Too much work. He dropped out of school for much the same reasons. No staying power, someone once told him a long time ago.

Coward, he had supplied for himself.

Marco comes in for his daily coffee. And everything is the same as it always is. Two packets of sugar, a little milk. The wince, and the apologetic smile meant for no one but himself. Keats and his highlighter and Jean watches and never says anything.

Except, at 10:15 when Marco is supposed to leave (for class, and sometimes Jean, a braver Jean, asks him if the book is for class, if Marco’s studying English, if it’s just a requirement or if Marco just really likes Keats), he lingers, coming up to the counter.

"You’re always staring," he says, and his cheeks dimple with his smile, his freckles pressing up under his eyes. "Here." And across the counter he slides the book.

Jean stares at it.

"Say thank you, horse-face," Eren calls from behind him.

"Thank you," he says automatically. 

Marco’s smile widens. “I hope you like it! I highlighted my favorite parts for you.”

And then he leaves (for class, Jean’s mind supplies) and that’s that.

He opens the book carefully. It’s pages are worn and slightly yellowed, clearly loved. Marco’s number is penned in careful ink on the first page.

Maybe Jean can deviate from script.

Maybe he can be brave.

(at his break, he calls, and Marco’s breathless across the line;  _yes,_ he says)


End file.
